Something clicked.

He wasn't sure when, or how. But somewhere after a blackbird began to sing in the dead of the night, the jigsaw filled.

Everything fell into place. Suddenly he wasn't just floating, he was caught. He was trapped. But he didn't feel caged. He felt safe. Completely and utterly at home. Everything was right. He wasn't a loose cannon anymore. He had embedded himself in something. Something strong, and carefree, and vulnerable, and beautiful.

It glowed. Even crying, the object of this newly found…he didn't even know what to call it…well, he was beautiful.

But why hadn't he realised this before? Why had it taken him until now to realise what was always there, right beside him?

Oh, there you are, he thought. You're who I've been looking for, forever. You're perfect. Perfect for me.

And there he was. Right there. Singing his heart out over some stupid bird.

Would you cry like that if it was me? He thought. Would you sing a song at my funeral? Would you weep over my grave?

It was the strangest feeling. It was like falling, but without the fear. There was adrenaline, definitely. There was that strange whooshing sound, the odd feeling of being completely free, but at the same time knowing he couldn't go anywhere. He couldn't leave.

Any ideas he had of keeping on running, of sprinting away from everything, were gone. Buried.

Any plans he might have had of leaving after he finished school flew out the window. Any thoughts of cutting all strings the day he graduated were crushed under this…

What the hell was it, anyway?

Was it love? He didn't know. He had thought he'd been in love before. Three times. Three times he had tripped and stumbled over road blocks and stepping stones. Three times he had wanted to be with someone, to hear 'I love you' whispered in his ears in between kisses, or to feel someone next to him. Three times he had rushed into things in the complete whirlwind of teenage hormones and unfiltered thoughts.

But this…this was oblivion.

Every moment, every nanosecond, was just for him. Every time his heart beat, it was for him. Every time his blood pumped, it was for him. Every time he breathed, every time he blinked, every time the clock ticked, everything was for him. There was nothing else that mattered.

But he couldn't do this.

Not here. He couldn't. Not him. Why him? Why did it have to be the one person he couldn't? Why was this oblivion surrounding the one person he had sworn he would never hurt?

He didn't have a choice. He was falling down a mountain, scrabbling onto hand holds. But he realised, all too soon, that if he stopped falling, the avalanche would catch him.

The only way out was down.

But-he couldn't.

Not here. Not now. Not him.

But it was so obvious. So freaking obvious. It had been here the whole time. He had been here. The reason for everything, was right there. Right in front of him. Just a few meters away.

It was like fate was offering him up on a silver plate. Pushing him-go for it, boy, come on, a few steps. That's it. He's right there. Go on. Kiss him. Hold him. Love him. You deserve this.

And then fate turned around, and said, but you can't. You know this. Not with him, right? Don't even think about it. No, that's right. Turn around. Run away. You always run. It's how you live. You can't stay in this. You can't do this. Can you? Because you know, in your heart, that he's better than you.

It was like a wall had crashed down, silently, in between them, a one way mirror. He could see everything the other boy was doing. Every movement, every note. He could feel it. But Kurt couldn't.

But he would make it work.

He could.

Suddenly, the dust clouding everything around him settled. Because, finally,

Blaine stopped running.